


Rhinovirus Can't Stop My Love

by Living_Free



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Bruce is very protective of Tim, Crack, DaddyBats, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jason makes drama, Tim avoiding disease like a pro, batbros, his brother - Freeform, his karma comes in the form of dick, misunderstanding youth culture and tide pods, not the anatomical appendage, poor timmy, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: 'Tis the season to be avoiding your sniffling siblings!His siblings may have fallen victim to the common cold, but Tim ain't got no time for that. He's got crimes to solve, a company to run, and boyfriends to snog - well, not so much the last one. Not if Bruce has anything to say about it.And perhaps a touch of cold is just what's needed to bring about some father-son bonding time, too.





	Rhinovirus Can't Stop My Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollyhock13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyhock13/gifts).



> For the Gen Batfam Christmas Stocking 2018 for hollyhock13!
> 
> Prompt: Passing cold/flu/chicken pox/strep/mono/whatever through the family

It started with Jon Kent, who sneezed on Damian during a playdate - "We were fighting the forces of evil, Grayson! We took out Penguin's base of operations!" - and infected the scion of the Houses of Al Ghul and Wayne with that most basic bitch of illnesses - the common cold. Damian seethed endlessly to anyone and everyone as to how he could possibly have fallen victim to what was practically a commoner's illness. 

As said seething was done very loudly and in the common areas of the manor, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the residents of Wayne Manor fell prey to the virus. 

The rhinovirus' next victim was one Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, who had caught the virus from using the throw pillow that Damian had been sniffling on in the living room to have a little nap. After his nap, Jason had woken up, made tea for himself and Alfred, and went down to the cave to butt heads with Bruce. Said head-butting session went something like this:

"Hey Bruce. Dickface."

"Gasp!" Dick gasped like the oversensitive jellyfish that he was. 

"Jason, don't call your brother names."

"I wasn't, I was just making an observation."

"Apologize to your brother."

"Eat me."

Then Jason vowed to leave and never return for the fifteenth time that week, and left for patrol. It was halfway through absolutely wrecking Two-Face's latest weapons warehouse that Jason felt the first stirrings of a headache. By the end of the night, Jason's pride had deflated enough that he dragged himself home to the Manor to be babied by Dick and fed hot soup by Alfred.

It was in the process of being babied by his incredible emotional platypus of an older brother that Jason managed to pass the cold on to Dick. 

"Oh, I don't feel good, Jaybird."

"Well, you shouldn't have kissed my forehead to check for a fever, then. Who does that, anyway? Use a thermometer, dinkus."

"Ooh, I have a headache. Budge up, Jay, I'm going to have a quick nap."

"What? Wait, no-"

And that was how Jason ended up not only with a common cold, but also with a clingy bed partner with freakishly smooth legs. 

"Karma," Cass snickered at him from her hiding spot in the air vents, as Jason feebly shook his fist up at her. "For being mean to Dick."

"I'm always mean to Dick. It's how I express my love for him."

"The Fates do not know. The Fates deal in absolutes."

"Man, your English has really improved."

"Thank you."

"But you realize that the virus is probably circulating through the vents, right? I mean, I sneezed, like, a lot."

Cass paused to narrow her eyes at him before scampering away, but in vain. The next day, she, too, was struck down and confined to her bedroom. In an act of selflessness, she sent Tim a text. She also firmly believed that the Fates would see her kind actions and grant her mercy from her cold.

>>CASS: Save yourself. It is coming.

Upon receiving the text message, Tim leapt into action. The mouth-breathing boors that he lived with had probably been sneezing and coughing without a care in the world, without so much as a thought for poor, spleenless, Tim. 

First things first, Tim thought, and ran to his wardrobe before donning his custom made hazmat suit. Then, he pulled out his overnight bag and stuffed it with the necessities - gadgets, dart gun, grappling hooks, costume, armour, and coffee pills before running to Bruce's room. 

"Bruce, I'm going to go over to Kon's place, okay, bye!"

"No."

"Why not!?"

"Because," Bruce grunted, "I know what you teenagers get up to, with your hormones. I don't want you and Kon-El to meme, or whatever it is that you kids call it now."

"Oh my God."

"Don't think that I'm in the dark about your youthful activities," Bruce said, wagging his thick finger patronizingly. "Thanks to the antics of Hal Jordan, I am well versed with the culture of the current youth and the illegitimate uses of the tide pod."

Tim stared. "What exactly," he asked, "do you think it is that we do with tide pods?"

Bruce steepled his fingers and stared evenly at Tim over his hands. "I suspect that you would use them as substitutes for anal pods for stimulation during-"

"ARGH!"

"-intercourse."

Tim ran out, hoping to find Alfred. If Bruce wouldn't give him permission to leave for his own safety, then Alfred could override him. He found Alfred in the living room, pacidly dusting Priceless Artifact No. 218.

"Alfie! Please, I need to leave the house! Everyone is down with the cold and Bruce thinks that I use tide pods as anal beads!"

"Egads," Alfred said, gingerly putting down the feather duster before massaging his temples. After a deep breath, he looked at Tim. "You are, of course, free to leave for your safety, Master Timothy," he said. 

"Yes!"

"But as it happens, I too, do not wish for you to run into the arms of your boyfriend. Therefore, I would request that you stay with your Father in his rooms. I am more than aware that your siblings will wish to interact with you-"

"You mean Dick will smother me."

"Quite. That, or-"

"Jason will forget which room he's in and end up spooning me in my sleep again."

"Indeed. Otherwise-"

"Damian will try to kill me by weaponizing his sneezes and taking advantage of my lack of a spleen."

"Correct. For those reasons, I suggest that you refrain from staying in your room for the time being."

Tim nodded. "Well, if Bruce didn't want me to live with Kon, then he can't very well complain about me moving into his room."

~*~*~*~

Patrol that night was almost relaxing without Dick's constant smothering via the comms, watching out for Damian throwing himself headlong into various dangerous situations - "I have a sword, I am invincible!" - and Jason's constant threats of decapitating some villain. It ws just like the old days, just Bruce and Tim, Dad and Son, cruising the Gotham skyline and beating justice into the hardened criminal elements of the city. 

Even Bruce was in a good mood without the added stress of Damian and Jason, not to mention the ridiculous loving blather Dick produced over the comms that even he, the Batman, could not seem to stop. 

They ended the night by avoiding Clark, who had come up to Gotham to say hello to Bruce, and went home, flushed with triumph. Bruce showered, changed, and went up to his room, eager to begin his nightly hibernation. Only-

"Hey, Bruce."

"Tim."

Bruce saw his teenage son making himself right at home on top of his luxurious Egyptian cotton bedspread, his skinny legs poking out of his Superboy patterned boxer shorts and a crop top that most probably belonged to Dick. 

There was no hair anywhere on Tim's tiny body. Bruce wondered if Tim had started puberty yet. But back to the concern at hand. 

"Tim, why are you here."

Tim nestled himself under the blankets with a contented sigh before answering, "Well, Alfie told me that I couldn't leave the house, and since everyone else can pick the lock to my door and I'm not allowed to booby trap the hallway-"

"For good reason-"

"-and seeing as everyone else is sick, this is the logical place of refuge for poor, spleenless, little me."

Bruce stared at his son in bewilderment as Tim dabbed on some eye cream andput on a head wrap. His mind raced with possible scenarios. 

Scenario 1: Send Tim back to his room, where one of his siblings (Damian, Jason) would probably break in and infect him. 

Scenario 2: Allow Tim to go over to Kon-El's house, where Tim's virginity was at risk. 

Scenario 3: Put Tim in the Batcave for the night, whereupon Alfred would find him and then be angry at Bruce. 

Scenario 4: Use this time to reaffirm his love for his middle child, and give lots of hugs and snuggles under the guise of sleeping. 

Bruce nodded to himself and set his mind on scenario 4 and got into bed himself. "Goodnight, Tim." 

"Night, Bruce," Tim replied sleepily. 

Bruce spent ten minutes looking fondly at his sleeping child before checking his phone one last time before going to sleep.

>>DICK: Merry Christmas Bruce!!! (u 3 u)

>>DICK: attachment: Jaybird and Dami.jpeg

Bruce opened the file to see that Dick had somehow managed to not only persuade Jason into sharing his bedroom with him while they were both sick, but had somehow managed to smuggle an equally sick Damian into bed with them. Damian and Jason were fast asleep, limbs splayed haphazardly over each other, their mouths open and exuding sleepy little huffs of air. 

>>DICK: Sad that Timmy can't join D: he must be feeling so left out.

Bruce chuckled and aimed the phone camera at Tim before sending Dick a picture of Tim sleeping in his polka dot hair wrap, eye cream, and crop top. Almost immediately, the phone pinged again.

>>DICK: MY HAIR WRAP! AND CROP-TOP!! O.o

>>DICK: Aww but he looks cute :3 I'm glad that he has you during Christmas.

Bruce shook his head fondly at Dick's about-face and shut the phone off for the night. He gently carded his fingers through the top of Tim's hair. It was far too long, he thought. Time to bully Tim into another haircut. 

"Goodnight, Tim," Bruce said softly. 

"Goodnight, Kon," Tim replied huskily.

Bruce stilled. Well. No more Titans tower sleepovers for Tim, then.

Bruce pulled out his phone to type out an irate text. 

>>ME: Clark, we are going to have Words about your clone.

>>>>CLARK: Words? Are they bad? Can they wait till after Christmas?

>>>>CLARK: Don't be mean to me on Christmas, Bruce :((

Bruce paused, and looked at Tim, sleeping soundly next to him, his face relaxed and innocent in a way that Bruce knew in his heart of hearts that his soul was not. 

>>ME: It can wait.

Bruce took one last look at Tim before turning off the lights. For Tim, he could wait for any length of time. 


End file.
